Liner Notes
by Alexandra Lyman
Summary: CS rockstar/actress AU. Killian Jones, lead singer of the band Crimson Flag, has been burned in the past by love and turned his heartbreak into a hit album, Hook. But with his new single, I Still Do, he's ready to proclaim to the world that he still believes in love. All he needs is an actress to appear in the song's music video and he has just the one in mind - TV star Emma Swan.
1. Chapter 1

**Author: Just a fun little rockstar/actress AU written as a birthday present for my friend Jenna (captainswanismyendgame here and on Tumblr. Go follow!). Won't be super long, but will be a few chapters at least.**

* * *

He finally answered when his phone started ringing for the fourth time, snatching it off the nightstand and taking a quick look at the name that popped up on the caller ID. He swiped angrily across the screen and hissed, "I am going to bloody kill you."

William Smee's voice, loud, wheedling, and most definitely not what Killian wanted to hear at four in the morning, practically burst his eardrum in response, "Oh sorry, I forgot about the time difference again, didn't I? But you said you wanted hear the second there was news, and have I got news for you, we got her!"

"What?"

He sat up in bed, the sheets slipping down to his waist, and pressed the phone tight to his ear, "Her? You mean?"

"Yup. The contract was just signed a few minutes ago. You've got yourself a princess to rescue, Captain. Emma Swan is going to star in your music video."

Annoyance forgotten, Killian rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and smiled, "Ah, Mr. Smee. Good work man, very good work."

Smee warned with a bit of hesitance, "We've still got problems with the schedule though. We pushed it back a week, that's as long as we can wait but she can't fly down until the 6th, so you'll have to film all the scenes without her first to have everything completed on time."

"We'll make it work," Killian said firmly, "Call the director and tell him it's a go, I know he was getting antsy about it."

"Aye, aye, Captain Jones!"

He grimaced, "Cool it with the nautical jokes, Smee."

Smee protested that he was just trying to help him get into character and they exchanged a few more words about what needed to be done to have everything ready for the upcoming shoot. They didn't talk long, Smee had many more calls to make in addition to phoning the director, more deals to be wrangled into place and details ironed out with the new filming schedule. Killian ended the call, dropping the phone back down on his nightstand with a thump. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, too keyed up to go back to sleep.

The large flat was dark and quiet as he padded down the hall towards the kitchen in bare feet and boxer shorts. He had bought it with royalties from _Hook_ , it was all sleek and modern and expensive and he still felt a bit out of place living in it, like it wasn't really his and the real owner was going to show up at any minute and kick him out. The posh neighbourhood was a far cry from his old digs, the tiny, dodgy studio above a Chinese takeaway where he had lived while the band played pub gigs and uploaded videos to YouTube, waiting for their big break. Just him and Rob and Will, the three founding members of Crimson Flag. They had scraped by in the single room for years, Will on the couch and Killian on the futon, Rob biking over from his girlfriend Marion's place, working odd jobs during the day and staying up until the wee hours of the morning, writing songs together, rehearsing until the neighbours called the police about the noise, and dreaming of fame and fortune.

 _Honour Among Thieves_ was their first album after getting signed with a label. It had sold fairly well, they had toured Europe and America off it and were even nominated for some industry awards. But the second record, _Hook_ , had really put them on the map. It was a breakup album, a chronicle of his whirlwind and ultimately doomed relationship with Milah, and from the ashes of his heartbreak and the pain they had sold millions of CDs and won three Grammys. On _Hook's_ success the band toured the world for almost two years straight, a dizzying parade of stadium lights and cheering crowds. Sydney, Rio, Montreal, Los Angeles, all cities he had longed to visit when he was a boy and a new letter from Liam arrived in the post. In those two years he had filled his passport with more stamps than even his big brother had acquired in his tours with the Navy, and slowly started to heal from the wounds Milah had inflicted in her wake. Killian's shattered heart had put itself back together piece by piece across countries and continents, and he had picked up his notebook again after months of writer's block to work on new songs, filling the hours on long plane rides passing scribbled pages of lyrics back and forth with Will and strumming out melodies on his guitar in lonely hotel suites after their shows.

Thirteen brand new tracks they collectively named _Dreams of Neverland_ was the result. It had already hit number one on iTunes just in presales, the label had high expectations that it would surpass _Hook_ and was going all out on the video for the first single. The concept was a bit of a cheeky nod to Errol Flynn and Robert Louis Stevenson, a swashbuckling adventure with fearsome pirates and fair maidens. As the lead singer, Killian would play the pirate captain, who was sailing the high seas in search of his lady love, a beautiful princess kidnapped by his rival. Rob and Will would portray members of his motley crew, an actor he had never heard of named August Booth had been hired to play the rival captain, but when it came to casting the pivotal part of the princess, Killian had one woman and one woman only in mind.

Emma Swan.

Will had teased him mercilessly when her name had popped immediately out of his mouth in first the meeting about the video. His bandmate knew damn well just how much he fancied the beautiful American actress, had ever since he became totally addicted to her TV show, _The Globe_. It was a mashup of different characters from Shakespeare's plays all living together in the same town thanks to a curse cast by Prospero from _The Tempest_ , Emma played the lead role of the adult daughter of fiction's most famous lovers, Romeo and Juliet. But unlike her star-crossed parents, her character was a cynic about love and romance. Killian had stumbled onto the show on a lark partway into season two and was immediately hooked, marathoning the first season in one very long weekend on Netflix and waiting impatiently on Sunday nights for each new episode to start.

"Havin' Emma Swan play your love interest in the video? Yeah, no one will ever see through that," Will had declared after the meeting with a knowing smirk.

"Why don't you keep your thoughts to yourself, mate," he retorted, punching Will playfully in the shoulder while Rob rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath.

Killian had thought it was no more than a pipe dream. But the label had liked the idea, they liked it a lot, having Emma in the video would generate advance buzz in the press and online. Her agent was contacted (a woman named Regina Mills, who had clearly terrified label rep William Smee during their meeting) and was interested as well, emails flew back and forth with scripts and storyboards and costume sketches. But the shooting dates were a problem, they conflicted with filming for _The Globe._ Killian had wanted to reschedule for when Emma would be free, but they had to have the video finished in time for the already set release date of the album and couldn't wait. It had seemed like it wasn't going to happen and they'd have to hire someone else, but Smee had promised to do all that he could to make it work and had obviously delivered.

He flipped on the overhead light in the kitchen and got a glass from a cabinet. As he filled it with water from the faucet he absent-mindedly drummed out a few bars of _I Still Do_ on the marble countertop with his fingers. The first single from the album, it was a song he had written on his own without any input from Rob or Will. He had scratched it out slowly line by line on the night that he and Milah had once sworn in happier times would be their wedding day. Before she had left him and gone back to her husband and son, ripping his heart out in the process and leaving him bitter and angry and certain that love brought nothing but wasted years and endless torment.

A redheaded journalist had interviewed the band that day, he'd been in a bad mood from the memories that the date had dredged up and was more than a little drunk after spending some quality time with the hotel minibar. He was rude and belligerent and had sabotaged the interview to the point that she got fed up and lost her temper, actually slapping him right across the face. It had shocked the both of them and her flustered apology had been cut off by Will, who gave him a pointed look, "Don't say you're sorry, lass. The bastard deserved it, I was about ready to knock 'em on his arse myself."

Killian had slumped back down in his chair, his cheek throbbing from the blow and the fight going out of him at once, "Any more questions?" he asked quietly, feeling like a jerk.

"You've never said publicly who inspired _Hook_ , but after that experience, does Killian Jones still believe in love?"

He'd been asked that before, many times, and had always given a flip, dismissive response. But staring at the redhead who was watching him with her eyebrows raised and her hand twitching slightly in her lap, the words just slipped out in an earnest rasp, "I still do."

There was a notation in the linear notes on _Dreams_ , "And thanks to Ariel for knocking some damn sense back into this sorry bastard."

After polishing off the water he switched the kitchen light off again and went back into his bedroom, intending to try to go back to sleep. His phone was flashing, indicating a new voicemail or text had been received and he picked it up from the nightstand, squinting at the screen. It was a text notification from an unknown number and he thought about ignoring it for a second before shrugging and thumbing the message open. Might as well see who it was from.

 _Is this Killian Jones? This is Emma Swan._

He felt his stomach do a little flip at the words and he thanked his lucky stars as he quickly messaged back, _This is Killian. I just heard the good news._

 _That guy from your label gave me your number and I wanted to say hi._

"Good work Smee," Killian whispered, taking back every murderous thought he'd ever had towards the man. He sat down on the edge of the bed and tapped out a reply on the screen, _Well hello back, Emma Swan_

There was a pause and then another text popped up, _I love the song, BTW._

Regina Mills had been given an advance copy of the CD so Emma could listen to it, not wanting to commit her client to the part without actually hearing _I Still_ _Do_ first.

 _Thanks. I love The Globe. Looking forward to working with you._

She answered quickly, _Me too. Aruba should be fun - and better weather than Vancouver rain, hopefully._

The video was being filmed on location in the Caribbean isle. They could have done it in a studio in London with green screens and CGI, but the band had taken a vote and the prospect of a mini-holiday with sun and sand had won out, three to zero. He texted his agreement with a comment about the dreary English weather they'd been experiencing for the past few weeks.

Killian wondered briefly if Emma might be packing a few... _tropical_ outfits for the trip, they wouldn't be filming twenty four hours a day after all and there was downtime scheduled for relaxing on the beach. He shifted a bit as his lower anatomy started to stir at the thought of string bikinis and tan lines. But he didn't ask, he was a gentleman (even though he heard Will snorting with derision in his head at the idea). They exchanged a few more pleasantries before Emma texted that she was being called to set and had to go, and he gleefully added her number to his contacts. Not five seconds later the phone vibrated in his hand and Will Scarlet's face filled the screen.

"That wanker Smee woke me up, so I'm waking you up."

Will sounded hungover (he probably was), annoyed (ditto), and Killian grinned into the phone, "Wake me up? Mate, I've been up for hours. Nothing like some morning yoga to get the blood flowing and the synapses firing. Namaste."

"Bloody hell, yoga? Oh, wait. He rang you first, didn't he?"

"Aye."

"Did he wake you up, at least?" Will demanded.

"Aye."

His friend and bandmate grunted. Will was the bass player and sang backing vocals to Killian's lead. They traded a few insults back and forth, "Were you at least passed out in your own bed, Will? Or are you calling me from a pub loo?" "Piss off, Jones," until Will finally said, "So. Your cunning plan worked then. Emma Swan."

He tried to sound casual and failed miserably, "She just fit the role."

Will gave an incredulous laugh, "You've been drooling after her for months. Fit the role my arse. This whole heaving bosoms and walking the plank thing was _your_ idea."

Killian had...suggested it to the director. But how was he to know the man's favourite childhood book was Treasure Island and he'd leap at the chance to do an homage to eyepatches and peg legs? Not that Killian was going to don either, but he had seen the sketch of Will's costume. It included a parrot. Will was still unaware and Killian was looking forward to his reaction immensely.

"She texted me," he blurted out, feeling like a damn schoolboy.

Will's tone sharpened with interest, "What do you mean she texted you?"

"Smee gave Emma my number. She texted that she loves the song."

"Every bloody woman on the planet is going to love that song. But that means more dosh in my pocket, which is why I'm going along with your ridiculous Jack Sparrow role playing without complaint."

"I'm sorry, did you say without complaint?" Killian shot back. He couldn't wait until Scarlet got a load of his costume. Emma Swan would be able to hear the complaining all the way on _The Globe's_ set in Vancouver.

Will bitched some more and they traded good natured barbs that didn't carry any actual bite, until his friend finally hung up the phone with a parting remark of, "Yeah, well if you cock this up then we'll probably get another platinum record out of it, so there's an upside."

That one stung. While he did bear some responsibility for what happened with Milah it wasn't like it was entirely his fault, she was the one who had come onto him first and sworn that her marriage was over even though she hadn't actually filed for divorce. After that disaster he'd sworn off relationships, indulging in a string of one night stands and brief meaningless flings that had given him a bit of a reputation in the tabloids as a heartless man-whore. Which wasn't necessarily a bad thing for a rock star but he was getting a bit tired of it. Milah had made her choice, and it was long past time for him to let go. The bitterness and anger of _Hook_ was behind him, _Dreams of Neverland_ was about moving on and looking to the future.

His future...that now included Emma Swan.

Killian Jones still believed in love.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author: Thanks for the great reviews everyone!**

* * *

They flew to Aruba on a private jet chartered by the label. Killian, Will (who had shown up at the airport late and hungover as per usual), Rob, with small son Roland in tow, Roland's new nanny Belle, the band's bodyguard "Little" John, Tink - their PA, and the director for the video, Jefferson, who had just finished a shoot in Berlin and joined them for the flight across the pond. Like a lot of directors, he was rather...eccentric.

They were employing local crew where they could, but some were being flown in from the States, along with people from the label, August Booth, and of course Emma Swan, who would be joining the shoot in progress.

They had been texting back and forth ever since the day the contract was signed, little messages squeezed in whenever they both had a few spare minutes. Killian's schedule was packed with photo shoots and interviews for the CD's upcoming release, and Emma was spending long hours on set as her show had the penultimate episode and the big finale still left to film for the year. The time difference also made it difficult for them to connect, as she was in Vancouver and he in London, but they had managed a few actual conversations when the stars aligned and they were both free (and awake) at the same time. He tried to get her to share spoilers for _The Globe_ and she teased that if she told him she'd have to kill him before finally letting slip that the season would end with two of Lee's daughters staging a takeover of the family business and ousting their father as CEO - confirming what many fans (and he) had suspected, that Lee was actually King Lear. Emma swore him to secrecy about it and he laughingly answered that he would gladly swear a solemn oath with his hand over his heart if she so wished, and wouldn't spill the beans to anyone. They chatted about his latest Instagram posts - a series of embarrassing photos of Will either asleep or passed out with a stuffed rabbit toy that Killian had borrowed from Roland carefully tucked under his arm or set against his cheek in each shot.

They had started following each other on social media not long after their first text conversation. Her feed leaned heavily towards pictures of food - grilled cheese sandwiches, onion rings, and she clearly had a fascination with cocoa, always tagging those pictures of oversized mugs filled with chocolate and whipped cream with #dontforgetthecinnamon. Photos of her costars also showed up regularly, especially the actors who played Romeo and Juliet. David and Mary Margaret had become good friends of hers, she explained - they regularly got together off set and she and Mary Margaret had even been roommates for a time when the show first started filming. He told her some funny stories about touring, like the time he had got on the wrong bus after a show and didn't realize his mistake for four hours, at which point the rest of the band was hundreds of miles away in the opposite direction and he had to pay a cab driver a ridiculous amount of money to catch up with them. It was all light small talk, nothing too deep or revealing.

But one night (well, night for her, early morning for him), the conversation took a more personal turn. Maybe it was the fact that it was raining on both ends, Emma said that she was sitting outside on her patio and he could hear the downpour through the phone while he looked out his own window and saw the water sluicing over the glass. The miles of ocean and the eight hours between them vanished in an instant and it almost felt like they were sitting in the same room.

"I've been listening to the CD non stop," she confessed at one point, "I love _Hook_ too, but _Dreams of Neverland_ is really something else, Killian."

He felt the tips of his ears go red at the praise and was grateful that she couldn't actually see his face. They talked some more, and he pulled out his guitar and put the phone on speaker, strumming out a few bars of a new song he'd been working on for her to listen to. He had never done that before with anyone except his bandmates.

Not even Milah.

He had played for his ex, but only songs they had already released or covers of other artists she liked, and they spent so much time holed up in bed or out drinking in bars that he hadn't actually written anything new during their relationship. Afterwards was a different story, when she was gone and he threw himself head first into the bitter lyrics and angry music that would later make up _Hook_ with a vengeance.

"Well Swan, what do you think?" he asked after the impromptu serenade, setting the guitar aside and picking the phone back up. For a long moment there was silence and he let out a small cough, "Hated it that much, huh?"

"No!" she protested at once, "It was great, it's just..."

"I can take the criticism, I've read what people post online about me."

"You do? I had to stop doing that years ago. No, it's that line about "they all have that same look, the ones left behind" it kinda, well-"

"Hit a bit too close to home?" he guessed, the words just popping out before he could stop them.

Silence came down the line again and he was convinced he'd just seriously blown any chance he'd had with her when Emma let out a sigh, "Maybe it did. How did you know?"

He'd looked up some of her interviews after she agreed to be in the video, curious to know more about the real life woman behind the persona she played on TV. One recurring quote was how much she identified with her character's cynicism about relationships. He also noticed that she never mentioned her childhood in the interviews and deflected any questions she was asked about it. It wasn't hard to put two and two together and figure out that Emma Swan had been hurt badly in the past by love or family or both.

Killian hesitated for a second before softly intoning into the phone, "You're a bit of an open book, love. Or I'm just incredibly perceptive, take your pick."

Again, there was no response and he held the phone between his head and shoulder, shifting the guitar back onto his lap, "You know, most men would take your silence as off-putting, but I consider it a challenge. Do you want to hear a bit more of the song?"

He half expected her to hang up on him and when she didn't answer he was about to look at the screen to see if she actually had. But then her voice whispered in his ear, "I...I have a four am call time tomorrow. I really need to get some sleep."

Emma did end the call then was he was convinced that he'd - in Will's words - "cocked this one up" before anything even started. The brief moment of sudden, unexpected intimacy vanished and after that they went back to more superficial texts and online "likes" and didn't really talk. Although a week or so later she did post a picture of a shopping bag sitting on a table with a bikini top and a pair of sunglasses poking out, adding a comment about counting down the days until she got to walk on the beach and stick her toes in the sand.

He retweeted it, hoping that she was still looking forward to the trip and it wasn't just for show. The label had issued a press release about her appearance in the video so it was public knowledge now. The more downmarket British tabloids were already speculating gleefully that Emma Swan would be the next notch on Killian Jones's bedpost. Which ticked him off to no end, and he yelled at Smee when the label rep tried to claim that any publicity was good publicity and pointed out that he'd been linked to plenty of women in the press before anyway, so what was the big deal?

Smee started phoning Rob instead after that conversation.

* * *

The flight to the shoot was uneventful. Roland curled up on Belle's lap in the oversized leather seat while the pretty brunette read books to him - her large satchel seemed to contain an entire children's library within its depths. Will fell asleep with his sunglasses askew on his face and his mouth hanging open. Killian promptly got the stuffed rabbit out of his carry-on bag and took a picture, holding a finger to his lips and winking conspiratorially at Roland. When Will woke up the boy was still giggling, and he glared suspiciously at Killian. But with a hard look from Rob he kept his mouth shut, unable to let loose whatever torrent of profanity he was probably thinking in front of the impressionable child. Jefferson was glued to his laptop the whole time, occasionally throwing out words and phrases that made no sense to the rest of the group without looking up or seeming to expect a response.

The plane was supposed to have wifi but his phone refused to connect and he kept staring down at the screen, itching to know if Emma was online. He'd seen a picture she had posted just before they boarded back in London, a throwback photo from the TV show she was on prior to _The Globe_. Other than a shot of some Pop-Tarts captioned "Breakfast of champions - and those who are going to be late for work" she hadn't uploaded anything else in the past two days. He felt like a damn stalker, constantly refreshing Twitter and Instagram and checking his texts, but he couldn't help himself. Clearly he'd struck a nerve during their conversation and he wasn't sure if he should try to apologize for it when they finally met in person in Aruba. Or was it better to just let it go and act as professionally as he could? Killian knew what it was like to have old wounds poked and prodded, countless reporters, fans, dates and people he just met in passing tried to get the dirt on the woman behind _Hook_. Only a select few knew about Milah, and no one had the whole story save for the two of them, he hadn't told Will and Rob or even Liam everything, and Milah had her own reasons for keeping mum about it.

By the time they landed he had changed his mind a half dozen times, but as he descended the stairs from the plane to the tarmac he had settled on "don't mention it, be professional".

A blast of warm air hit him the moment he stepped out of the cabin, blue skies and bright sun and the ocean was so close that they could see it just meters away, a grand expanse of white-capped waves and bobbing boats. Rob held Roland's hand as they carefully descended the steps, Belle and Will were next and Killian noticed that Will had Belle's large satchel slung over his shoulder along with his own bag. Tink shepherded them through customs, they cleared quickly and efficiently and were met by some local press outside the airport. A few minutes of waving at the cameras and brief soundbites about how beautiful the country was (although they had literally just set foot in it) and how much they were looking forward to shooting their video in such a lovely setting later, they boarded the minibus that was waiting to take them to the hotel. His phone lit up the moment it found a signal, that last several hours worth of voicemails and texts all coming through at once. He spent the whole trip to the hotel answering them, missing what was no doubt a very scenic ride. All were related to the video shoot in some way, but there was nothing from Emma.

The label had booked them into a small, beachfront resort. Crew were being housed in the main hotel building, while the members of the band each had a private villa. Rob needed bedrooms for Roland and Belle as well so his was the largest, but they were all spacious with high ceilings and large windows that offered spectacular views of the white sand beach. Each had a large master bedroom and separate living/dining areas, fully stocked bars and kitchenette, bathrooms with jetted tubs, and even a patio area out the back with a small private pool. Jefferson also had his own villa, along with August Booth. The actor who was slated to play Killian's rival in the video had arrived on an earlier flight but had gone into town for the day. The final villa in the row was empty, reserved for Emma. Gift baskets from the label were waiting for each of them on their coffee tables, filled with tropical fruit, champagne, and in honour of the shoot there was custom hoodies with the band's logo over the breast and "I STILL DO - ARUBA 2015" printed on the back over a line drawing of a pirate ship.

Roland had his own basket that included sand buckets, spades and several pool toys, and as they congregated in Rob's villa he came tearing out of his room in a bathing suit with an inflatable ring already around his waist and Belle hot on his heels.

"Can I go swimming in our pool, Daddy?" he asked, all wide eyes and bouncing excitement.

"Better watch out lad, there might be sharks hiding in the pool," Killian joked.

"Oh, don't tell him that," Rob protested as Roland's eyes got bigger. But he only looked at Killian like he was an idiot and said in a scolding tone, "Sharks live in the _ocean_ , not in _pools_ , Uncle Killian."

Will smothered a laugh while Rob knelt down next to his son, "Remember the rules while were here, you can't go swimming without an adult. And you listen to Belle and do what she tells you."

The boy nodded solemnly and Belle took him by the hand, leading him out the sliding glass doors to the pool area. A loud splash was heard a few second later along with a shriek, "See! There's no sharks, Belle. Uncle Killian was just being silly!"

Rob glanced towards his son's voice, his thumb absently rubbing over the wedding ring he still wore. Killian felt the familiar pang of loss in his gut and Will looked down, a shadow on his face too, but their bandmate merely smiled and opened the mini-fridge behind the bar, pulling out three bottles of beer.

"Well, gentleman," Rob said, "Here's to the new single."

They all raised their beers and tapped the bottles together in a toast, drinking in silence for a moment. They had first formed Crimson Flag over beer, drinking cheap pints together in a dank, hole-in-the-wall pub back in London. Now they were world famous and couldn't go back to that pub without drawing a huge crowd of onlookers. It was still a bit disconcerting to realize just how much their lives had changed.

"Buggering hell!"

Will was staring down at his phone, he looked up and shoved it in Rob's face with a glare, "The wanker did it again!"

He turned the screen and Killian saw what Will was looking at - the picture he had taken on the plane where Will was slumped down in his seat with his sunglasses hanging off one ear and his mouth open, the stuffed rabbit perched jauntily on his shoulder.

Killian might have posted it to Instagram during the ride to the hotel. He squinted closer at the phone, it already had hundreds of likes.

"If I find that bloody rabbit I'm going to burn it," Will mumbled.

"Can't," Killian shrugged, "It's technically Roland's, and you don't want him to get upset at his Uncle Will, now do you?"

Rob interrupted the inevitable bickering that followed when he set his empty beer bottle down with a firm thump on the counter.

"You two can take this foolishness somewhere else while I go join my son in the pool."

"I'm going to get you back for this, Jones," Will threatened.

Killian drained the last of his beer, "Quaking in my boots at the thought, mate."

* * *

Will finally calmed down by dinner. The hotel threw a special welcome party for everyone associated with the video, setting up grills by the beach to cook the meat and a long buffet table laden with the rest of the food. Alcohol flowed freely, beer, wine, and a dark local rum that Killian thought was quite tasty, eschewing the offered cocktail and choosing to drink it neat. He mixed and mingled, meeting several members of the crew. Leroy, a cameraman who was nicknamed "Grumpy", (and it wasn't hard to see why, he made faces at the food, the drinks, the hotel staff, the other crew, and the band members, looking like everything and everyone personally offended him in some way). Elsa and Anna, the hairstylist and makeup artist respectively (and sisters as well), were far more pleasant to talk to. Anna asked what he thought of using "guyliner" as part of his pirate look and maybe it was the rum's influence but he thought it was a splendid idea. August Booth was there, but they only shook hands briefly and didn't get much of a chance to talk. Roland ran around, munching happily on a hot dog and wearing a special child-sized version of the commemorative hoodie. He eventually fell asleep on a sun lounger and Rob carried him back to the villa to put him to bed. Belle remained at the party, off the clock now and in deep conversation with Will.

A pair of speakers were set up to play background music during the party and as the night went on Jefferson commandeered the sound system and began playing his advance copy of _Dreams of Neverland_ , turning the gathering into a listening party. He played I Still Do several times while acting out the plot for the video by himself, using a pair of salad tongs as a makeshift sword for the pivotal fight scene. Everyone cheered and clapped - except Leroy. They all seemed excited for the shoot, and as it was scheduled to begin bright and early the following morning the party didn't go too late. The last stragglers headed back to the main hotel before midnight, and Killian made his way down the path that led to the villas. At the last moment he veered away and went for a walk on the beach instead.

The sun loungers and umbrellas were all packed away for the night and he strolled down the stretch of bare sand, feeling the salt in the air and listening to the waves rolling against the shore. He had his hands in his pockets and his ever present phone pressed against his thigh. With a rueful smile he pulled it out and changed his mind, again.

Emma picked up on the third ring, "Hi Killian."

Her voice was neutral, sounding neither annoyed nor happy to hear from him. But she had answered.

"Evening, Swan."

There was still a time difference between them but it was only three hours now, so it would be evening in Vancouver as well.

"How is it Will Scarlet hasn't killed you yet?"

He was pleased by that, obviously she had seen the photo, "It's all in good fun."

"Yeah well, you better watch your back. He posted something about making nefarious plans for a certain, and I quote - black haired bastard."

The water almost lapped over his shoes as he stood right at the point where the waves started to roll back into the ocean, "You better get here quick then, you wouldn't want to miss the show."

A pause, and then a soft, "I'm looking forward to it."

Killian smiled broadly. He made his way back towards his villa after they finished talking, feeling the sand shift and move under his feet. The lights were still on in Jefferson's villa and he must have had a window open, music drifted across the beach. He was still playing the CD and Killian heard the familiar strains of _I Still Do_ echoing into the night.

 _How can you trust a man,  
_ _Who doesn't believe in love?_

 _I'm like a sailor without a ship,  
_ _Been cast adrift on an endless sea.  
_ _Thought I could erase the pain,  
_ _Lock it up and throw away the key._

 _But if you look into my eyes,  
_ _You'll see the truth I can't deny.  
_ _And when you ask me it again,  
_ _I won't lie again to you.  
_ _I'll swear it to the heavens,  
_ _And say, I still do._

 _Do I still believe in love?  
_ _My darling, yes,  
_ _I still do._


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys, thanks for the great reviews to the first two chapters! We've met rockstar Killian, now here's actress Emma**

* * *

If there was one thing Emma Swan was good at, it was packing. Her suitcase for the Aruba trip was ready and waiting by the door as it had been for a week now, full of T-shirts, tanks, flip flops, lightweight skirts, and the new bikini she had bought on impulse at the boutique that had just opened up two blocks away from her townhouse. It had cost a ridiculous amount of money considering it was just a few square inches of fabric, but she managed to squelch the little voice in her head that almost screamed out loud at the price tag, the voice that still counted every penny and worried about how to both make rent and buy groceries in the same week. She wasn't that broke (and broken) teenager anymore, fresh out of prison and struggling to make ends meet without a college degree on crappy minimum wage jobs. She was a successful actress, the lead on a top 10 network TV show with a paycheck to match and she could afford to splurge on a bathing suit if she wanted to. Her credit card was firmly pulled from her wallet and handed to the sales clerk, and she even let herself get talked into adding a pair of designer sunglasses to her purchase too.

But, like a childhood spent hurriedly packing all her worldly possessions in ten minutes flat under the bored eye of the social worker waiting to take her to the next foster family or group home, other old habits died hard. The shopping bag sat unopened on her coffee table overnight, and she had to rip up the receipt into tiny pieces and throw it in the trash to stop herself from returning them both the next day.

The new sunglasses were tucked away in her purse next to her passport and she double checked that she had everything she needed in her carryon bag. It was a good thing that she had packed her suitcase early otherwise she'd probably be frantically running around trying to stuff everything in at the last minute. She wasn't scheduled to leave for the music video shoot for another two days, after wrapping up filming on _The Globe's_ third season. But a last minute snafu had thrown the entire final episode into chaos, when the actress cast as Lee/King Lear's estranged daughter Cordelia had been unable to cross the border into Canada due to her criminal record, a DUI that she had left off her visa application but was unearthed by customs anyway. The scene Emma was supposed to film with her had been scrapped as the script was hastily rewritten overnight. Now they would end the episode with Lee receiving a phone call from his daughter instead so they didn't have to actually show her on screen, while the show's producers tried to untangle the red tape with the consulate and either get the actress clearance to enter the country, or most likely they would just recast the part all together with someone else before filming started up again after their three month hiatus break.

Not for the first time, Emma was eminently grateful that her own conviction had happened when she was still a minor and the juvenile court records were safely sealed.

With the newly written final scene replacing hers, Emma was now finished for the season and free to leave Vancouver. Regina's assistant Sidney had changed her flight, emailing the hotel in Aruba and Crimson Flag's record label to let them know she would be arriving earlier than originally scheduled. She had been tempted to tell Killian when he had called her the night before, but until Sidney had the confirmation from the airline she didn't want to get his hopes up in case there were no seats available on an earlier flight. When she woke up to a text that a car would be picking her up at ten for the ride to the airport and her new ticket would be waiting at the check-in counter, she decided to keep quiet and surprise him when she arrived.

When Regina had first called from her office in LA about the potential role in the music video Emma knew who Killian Jones was, of course - she had both _Honour_ _Among Thieves_ and _Hook_ in her iTunes library and was very much a fan of Crimson Flag's music (and truth be told, of the dark haired, blue-eyed lead singer, who was undeniably attractive, or more accurately, _majorly_ hot). She had been interested right away, having never worked with any musicians before. Her resume included commercials, some modelling work, TV, movies, it was a solid career that she had slowly built since the day she had walked out of a correctional facility in Arizona with nothing but a few hundred dollars in her pocket and a shattered heart, but filming a music video would be an entirely new challenge to undertake.

Her agent had also approved of the idea and she owed a great deal of her success to Regina Mills's razor-sharp and rather ruthless business acumen. It was only at her urging that Emma had even auditioned for _The Globe_ in the first place, a fact Regina frequently reminded her of. With the rise of YouTube and iTunes, music videos by top artists now racked up tens if not hundreds of millions of views online and Regina kept bringing up the potential for Emma to gain worldwide exposure to a whole new audience. The video was being filmed on location in Aruba with the record label providing five star accommodation, and she hadn't had any kind of a vacation since before she filmed _The Globe's_ pilot three and a half years prior. She had been given an advance copy of the CD and she absolutely loved the song _I Still_ _Do_ , and the concept for the video sounded like fun, pirates, princesses, swordfights, with a neat little twist at the end.

But white sand beaches and Regina's seal of approval and the possible career boost all aside, there was really only one reason why she had accepted the part. The negotiations had almost ended before they even begun over the filming schedule. Crimson Flag's record label had insisted the video must be completed by a certain date, but she was under contract to _The Globe_ first and couldn't leave Vancouver until after they were finished shooting season three. She had just assumed that would be the end of it and they'd move on to another actress with no restrictions, but Regina had called again one evening after another meeting with the persistent rep from the record label.

"Do you mind flying out to Aruba on the 6th? You'll miss the wrap party but there's no helping that."

"What?" Emma asked, frowning at the phone, "The music video? But I thought that was a no go?"

"They only want you for the role. The label guy is adamant that it has to be you, this is coming right from Killian Jones himself. He's insisting they figure out a way to make it work and what spoiled rock stars want, spoiled rock stars get, apparently. The schedule will be tight and you'll have to leave Vancouver the second you're done filming, but it's yours if you want it, Emma."

Regina's voice was as crisp and matter of fact as it always was, and when Emma said yes her agent simply said, "Then I'll finalize the contract now. They want you to fly there in business class but they're going to pay for first. Business class, just who do they think they're dealing with here? Don't worry, I'll handle this," and hung up without even bothering to add a goodbye.

The words repeated in her head as Emma put the phone down, feeling a little bit dazed. _They only want you._

When had anyone only wanted her? Not the birth parents who had abandoned her, that's for damn sure. All those foster families during her childhood had only seen her as an easy source of income, interchangeable with all the other kids in state care, and she'd had to bust her butt at open casting calls and auditions and screen tests to land every part she ever got. She knew that she was the first choice for the role in the video, but she had never been the only choice for anything, _ever._ They hadn't hinted that she should lose ten pounds or dye her hair even blonder, hadn't casually slipped in an "oh by the way there's a topless scene we forgot to mention earlier but you're cool with that right?" or so much as asked for a headshot. Actresses who could have played the part were a dime a dozen and they could have had someone else step in, easy as pie, but instead they had rearranged the whole filming schedule just to accommodate _her._

It was kind of... _nice_.

When the label rep had taken the phone from Regina to confirm receipt of the contract Emma had signed and emailed back to her agent's office, he had offered up Killian Jones's personal phone number and she had quickly scrawled it on a piece of paper. Killian was currently in London, the rep explained, and after finishing up with Regina she had run her fingers over the string of numbers while she debated if she should call him. At the last moment she had remembered the time difference and realized it would be very early in the morning in the UK, so she had sent a text instead. Which surprisingly was returned almost at once.

The airport limo arrived right on time and she switched off the hall light and locked the door while the driver hefted her suitcase into the trunk. She'd been renting the townhouse for two years, since life had imitated art and Mary Margaret had moved out of the condo she and Emma had shared and in with David after season one. Since the show had been a ratings success right from the pilot and was easily renewed by the network, it probably made more financial sense for Emma to buy her own place in Vancouver to live in during filming instead of continuing to rent on her own after she lost her roommate. She had even made the rounds with a real estate agent to look at some listings near where her costars lived. But there was some part of her that was still waiting for the other shoe to drop, and she couldn't pull the trigger and put in an offer on any of the houses that were up for sale, much to the agent's chagrin.

Ten years after Neal and the broken promise of Tallahassee, and she had never managed to find that elusive place to finally call home.

A few fans recognized her at the airport and she signed some autographs and posed for some pictures, but thankfully the vultures known as the paparazzi seemed to be absent today and once she went through security no one else approached her. As she waited for the flight she checked the industry news on her iPad and saw that they had already picked up the story about Lily, the actress who's future on _The Globe_ was now in serious doubt after her visa problems. Feeling a pang of sympathy for the woman who was paying again for a bad mistake she had made three weeks after she turned eighteen and could have so easily been her, Emma went offline and tucked the tablet back in her bag. It had been an insanely long week on set with the last minute script changes to memorize, and she wanted to forget about work for a while and just decompress. She snagged a copy of Glamour and a paperback book from the airport bookstore and mindlessly flipped through the magazine until the flight boarded. Her seat was located smack dab in the middle of first class - Regina Mills was difficult to get along with a times but when it came to contract negotiations she was without a doubt the queen of getting the royal treatment for her clients.

Emma accepted a glass of champagne from the flight attendant once they were in the air and checked out the inflight entertainment system. There was a whole library of movies and TV shows available to watch, and she was very pleased to see that _The Globe's_ first two seasons were included. She watched the trailer for the show even though she'd already seen it more times than she could count, still feeling that little thrill when she first appeared and _"Starring Emma Swan"_ came up on the screen. From that first role as an extra who only was visible for a split second if you squinted really hard and got paid fifty dollars for ten hours of work, to her name and face front and centre on a show watched by literally millions of people every Sunday night. That kid who ran away and no one ever gave a shit about had managed to put her life back together all on her own, and now had more than she'd ever dared dream.

The TV was switched off and she pulled out her book from her carryon. It had looked interesting sitting on the shelf in between the newest Stephen King and the latest YA crossover sensation, promising a retelling of several classic fairy tales from the point of view of the villains, who were recast as the heroes of their stories. The cover trumpeted the number of weeks it had spent on the New York Times bestseller list and the upcoming movie adaptation, but she only managed two chapters before tossing it aside on the empty seat next to her and deciding to leave it on the plane.

"Can I get you anything else, Miss Swan?" the flight attendant asked, whisking away the now empty glass.

Emma shook her head and the woman moved on to the passengers sitting in next row. Not in the mood to turn the TV back on or flip through her magazine again she plugged her earbuds into her phone and scrolled through her song playlists. Her finger hovered above the little icon for _Dreams of Neverland_ for a moment before she gave in and pressed play. Although _I Still Do_ would be the first single, it was actually the third track on the album and it was the opening guitar riff of track one, _Missing_ _Year_ , that filled her ears and quickly blocked out everything else around her.

She closed her eyes, turning her head into the headrest and wiggling a bit in the large seat until she found the most comfortable position with her legs stretched out to full length and her feet resting on a little built in footrest. First class really did kick ass.

Killian Jones started to sing on the track a few seconds later. It sounded like he was singing right to her and it reminded her of the night when he actually had, playing his guitar over the phone while she sat on her little flagstone patio under the awning in her backyard with a forgotten glass of wine in her hand. They'd been texting and talking for a few weeks, since she sent that first impulsive message. Regina's description of him as a spoiled rock star didn't jive with the man Emma had been speaking to, the one who told her he'd watched _Captain Blood_ about fifteen times to prepare for his pirate role in the video and was constantly pranking his bandmate Will on social media. She'd been around plenty of spoiled asshole actors who thought they were God's gift to the world, but Killian's nervous gulp and self-depreciating, "Hated it that much?" after sharing his new song with her was clearly genuine doubt about whether or not she liked it.

Liked wasn't the word. The lyrics he had sung in that famous voice, they had hit her right like a punch to the gut and dragged up all kinds of memories she usually kept hidden away under tight lock and key. All the old hurts and invisible wounds of her past had been summed up neatly in a few simple words and she wanted to hurl the phone over the fence, curl up under a pile of blankets on her bed and not come back out for a week.

But she couldn't, she had to be on set in five hours to film a happy scene with David and she didn't have the time or the space to fall apart or run away, she had signed the contract and was going to play the princess to Killian Jones's pirate even though in that moment she really didn't want to talk to him ever again. Somehow she had let her guard down around the man and the inevitable happened again. Let people in and you got hurt.

Even though she knew rationally that it had been unintentional on his part.

She had backed off after that and thankfully he hadn't pushed. They were going to work together for a week, nothing more to it than that. She was a professional, she could handle a too-handsome-for-his-own-good rock star. Who frequently wore very tight jeans and did not shave on a regular basis if that Google image search she had done on him was accurate. With an accent that made her knees go weak.

 _"They only want you."_

 _He_ had only wanted her.

Fuck, she was _completely_ screwed.

After a brief layover in Newark (with more fans clamoring for photos and autographs, it still felt weird that people actually wanted her to sign their T-shirts or take a selfie with them, like who the hell was she? She loved her work but fame was still uncomfortable at times) Emma switched airlines for the second leg of the journey, to her final destination - Aruba.

And Killian Jones.

Another first class seat (Regina Mills strikes again) and she checked to see if _The Globe_ was also available on this plane. It was, but her smile quickly soured to a frown when she scrolled down to the new movie releases and saw her ex-boyfriend's face staring back at her. Walsh was a fellow actor, they had met in New York when she lived there for a while a few years ago. He had been talking marriage and while she wasn't quite ready to accept a ring, the thought didn't terrify her the way she'd expected it to. But then he had gone off to the middle of nowhere Kansas for six weeks to film a movie and on the weekend that she was expecting him to fly back to see her, he had eloped to Vegas with his costar Zelena instead. Emma had heard the news on E! an hour before his lame apologetic phone call confirmed it. The marriage was over before the film even premiered - and it _tanked_ at the box office, served the bastard right, but she couldn't even muster up the energy to take any pleasure in the messy public split. The only saving grace was that they had kept their relationship under wraps when they were dating and the press had never caught wind of it, otherwise reporters and photographers would have been camped at her door, salivating over publishing her heartbreak right next to the photos of Zelena holding up her gaudy new emerald wedding ring with a gleeful smile when they left the chapel arm in arm.

She quickly exited the entertainment menu and the TV screen went back to showing their progress, a cartoon plane and little dots moving slowly closer and closer to the flashing star on the map that indicated the airport in Aruba. Her fingers crept to her neck and the old swan keychain that still hung there, faded and worn. Emma had to take it off during filming and she always told herself that one day she wouldn't put it back on, but that day had yet to come. Walsh, the selfish cheater...Neal, the utter disaster...she was better off alone anyway.

When she lifted her phone and called up _I Still Do_ before she could stop herself, she wondered if it was really true or if she was just telling herself that.


	4. Chapter 4

Filming started bright and early the morning after the welcome dinner, at an eighteenth century fort that had been restored and turned into a museum. The main scene they were shooting was a confrontation between Killian's pirate captain and August's naval officer character, that would end with crossed swords and an escape aided by the pirate captain's crew as played by Rob and Will.

While the crew set up the equipment the band and August all got into costume. The wardrobe trailer was so tiny that they had to go one at a time, getting dressed and then moving over to the equally small hair and makeup trailer where Anna and Elsa were set up. August went through the mini assembly line first, Killian was last. His elaborate costume took a while to wrangle into place and by the time he finally had everything on both his bandmates were done in the other trailer and had gone on ahead to set.

The sisters welcomed him in and sat him down in a barber's chair, quickly getting to work. Elsa clipped his hair back from his face while Anna poked around in a giant makeup case, coming up with a small bottle of skin coloured liquid and a sponge.

"Do you want me to cover up the scar?" she asked, squinting at his cheek. A souvenir from a bar fight during the worst of his post-Milah days, it was frequently airbrushed out of photos or covered with makeup when they performed or appeared on TV. He decided in that moment to stop hiding it, the mark was a reminder of his lowest point but he was past that now and it no longer gave him a twinge whenever he looked at it in the mirror.

"No, leave it. A pirate would have scars."

She nodded and started dabbing the sponge over his face everywhere else. Powder followed, applied with a big fluffy brush that tickled a bit and almost made him sneeze, and then she came at him with the eyeliner. That was a bit disconcerting, having Anna hovering about an inch away from him and feeling like she was going to poke him in the eye with the fat black pencil at any moment. How did women do that every day?

Elsa took over when Anna was done, laying out an array of brushes and combs and clips that all seemed like serious overkill. She rubbed some kind of product in his hair and started styling away, face creased in concentration. Anna watched, talking a mile a minute the whole time. When Elsa was finished and started tidying up her station, Anna whisked away the plastic cape that had been protecting his costume and spun him towards the mirror.

"Well, what do you think?" she asked, propping a hand on her hip.

Killian blinked at his reflection, slowly standing up. He'd seen the costume in pieces during the wardrobe fittings, but now with the jewellery and the hair and the eyeliner all in place he really did look like a swashbuckling pirate about to set sail on the Spanish Main in search of treasure.

Elsa tilted her head, her long braid falling over her shoulder while she looked him up and down in the mirror with a frown, "You laid the liner on a bit thick there, sis, and is the shirt really supposed to be open so low?"

"Don't listen to her, you look great!" Anna exclaimed, scowling at her sister.

"Here," Killian said, handing her his phone, "Can you take some pictures for me to post on Instagram and Twitter? Don't show the whole costume though, we want to get people excited for the video but we can't give too much away yet."

It took a few attempts to get some photos that showed hints of his new look without revealing the whole thing, but they managed to get some good shots in the cramped confines of the trailer. He also took some selfies with Anna, both of them making faces at the camera, and after a bit of cajoling, some with Elsa as well. She was obviously the more serious of the two, but she had a lovely smile when it finally made an appearance after her sister's rather theatrical begging.

The last part of his costume was hanging on a rack on the wall, a thick leather belt with a scabbard for his sword. The sword was fake, of course, but as he adjusted the belt on his hips and looked at himself in the mirror again it looked pretty damn real. With the leather trousers, billowy black shirt and leather vest, necklace with skull and dagger charms, heavy rings and the cutlass to complete the look, Captain Killian Jones was ready to make his grand entrance.

Anna and Elsa each hefted a bag of supplies for any touch-ups required on set and they made their way to where the first scene was to be shot. The crew was bustling about under Jefferson's direction and August was going over his copy of the script. The actor had on a powdered wig and a red velvet jacket with gold braid and buttons, his own fake sword hanging from his waist. Killian's "crew" was there, dressed in their own more subdued pirate garb of plain trousers and loose shirts belted with sashes. One had his arms folded across his chest and fixed Killian with a glare the second he walked into the room.

"Words cannot express how much I hate you right now."

Killian grinned widely at Will, "Is that any way to address your captain?"

"There is a ruddy parrot here, Jones. A parrot! A real one, with a man who is apparently under the impression that I am going to let it sit on my shoulder! It's going to bite me ear off!"

He clapped Will on said shoulder, feeling him flinch, "I'm sure they're trained the parrot not to bite off ears. Well, they've probably trained it not too."

"So you wear it then!" Will shot back, "Polly want a cracker? Or Polly want a nice ear to gnaw on?"

Killian turned to Rob, sitting in a director's chair with HOOD stencilled on the back, "Tell Scaredy Scarlet over here that the parrot is not going to bite off his ear."

Rob didn't even look up from his phone, "Will, the parrot is not going to bite off your ear. Killian, shut it, you'll only rile him up even more and I've already been listening to this for the last twenty minutes."

Killian pointed a finger at his bandmate, "I think you both need to learn some manners before I make you walk the plank."

Jefferson called for a rehearsal of the scene and Will flopped down in his own chair, it was just Killian and August for the first part. August fell easily into the role, putting on an arrogant sneer and standing at his full height, shoulders back and his posture ramrod straight the way a real eighteenth century naval officer's would be. When he pulled his sword and dropped into a fighting stance it was one smooth motion that looked fantastic. August had been hired for the role because he had experience with stage fighting. Killian felt rather more awkward at first, although the band had filmed music videos before that required a bit of acting it had been nothing like this. Will's unhelpful commentary from his seat behind the camera also kept distracting him until Rob finally got him to quiet down with a combination of threats and bribes.

But he gradually got used to the weight of the costume and the feel of the sword. Jefferson made some suggestions while watching in the monitor and Killian tried to follow them as best he could, using his hands a bit more to emphasize his movements, raising an eyebrow and smirking at August as they ran through the scene. Just before they started filming for real Anna dabbed more powder on his face and touched up the eyeliner, tilting his face with a hand under his chin and giving him a wink and a "You've got this." whispered under her breath as she worked. He stood up from his own director's chair when she was done, it had CAPTAIN JONES written on the back as a joke but he rolled his shoulders and rested a confident hand on the hilt of the sword, suddenly feeling like a real buccaneer.

They did several takes of the scene, wide shots, close ups, different camera angles. Then it was Will and Rob's turn to film, as Elsa took off August's wig so he could go dunk his head and cool off in the rising heat. The parrot wrangler set the bright green bird on Will's shoulder while he made a face and asked if it had been fed, hand creeping towards his ear. After their bit was done (Scarlet's ears both still attached to his head), the parrot was put back in his cage and they broke for a late lunch.

Rob called Belle to check in, she and Roland had stayed back at the hotel for the day. Jefferson was already editing some of the footage on his laptop, talking to Leroy as he worked and apparently unaware that the cameraman had his earbuds in and obviously wasn't listening.

Killian checked his messages on his phone as he ate. Tink had also remained back at the hotel, and she emailed that pictures from their arrival on the island the previous day were already posted on several entertainment websites. She included links and he opened one of them. A photo of the band outside of the airport greeted him, his hand was raised in a wave, Will was smiling, and Rob was looking at someone off camera. Roland, most likely. Killian was relieved that the boy wasn't actually in the shot, they all tried their best to keep Rob's young son out of the spotlight. Belle had shepherded him away from the reporters at once, keeping herself between him and the cameras. Clearly, she had been prepared for that aspect of her new job.

He scrolled down to the article below the picture. It was fairly brief, just a few lines, _Spotted in Aruba...highly anticipated third album Dreams of Neverland...video for the first single will also feature Emma Swan, star of The Globe..._

A little inset photo of Emma was included. The label would be pleased with the publicity and he was reminded of the pictures Anna had taken in the hair and makeup trailer. He opened them up and looked for the best one to post. There was a shot where he was in profile, the side of his face and his shoulder taking up the frame. Just a hint of the costume was visible but it was enough to suggest the overall look, and the dark makeup around his eyes made them much bluer than usual. He wasn't smiling, his mouth was set in a line with just the slightest curl of his lip. It was perfect. He posted it, tagging it with #dreamsofneverland #firstsingle #istilldovideo.

The next photo was one of the selfies, Anna was sticking her tongue out, his eyes were crossed and they were both giving the camera a thumbs up. It was the complete opposite of the one he posted and he saved it but didn't upload to any of his social media accounts. The other photo fit his image, the man frequently described in the press as "the bad boy frontman" and "the dark and brooding Killian Jones". It had helped sell millions of albums and became a bit of a mask, a persona he'd donned for so long that it was hard to shake. The fans loved it and it was easy to slip into that role.

Sometimes it was harder to slip back out of it.

They filmed some more with August after lunch and then he was done for the day, they needed Emma for the rest of the scenes the actor was involved in so he got to head back to the hotel early. The crew moved the equipment down to the beach below the fort for the scene of Killian getting into the rowboat his crew had brought and escaping back to his pirate ship. He'd glance back at the fort after the rowboat was underway and catch a glimpse of Emma's princess on the walkway, calling to him before the naval officer dragged her back inside. With the tides pulling the boat away from the shore, the pirate couldn't go back for her and could only watch helplessly as she was torn away.

They would film Emma and August's part later and splice the footage together. Anna had been drafted to serve as the stand-in for the princess, positioned in place on the stone walkway so Killian would be looking at the right spot.

Leroy had a camera on his shoulder in the crew boat and a speaker was set up to play _I Still Do_. Will and Rob took their positions with their hands on the oars (the parrot had also come back out of his cage, much to Will's disgust), and Killian ran his thumb over one of the oversized rings he was wearing, thinking about the verse that would play over the scene. Anna waved when he looked up and he focused in on her. He was supposed to be looking at the woman he loved, the one he'd do anything for. Milah's face flashed behind his eyes and he pushed the memory away, this wasn't about her any more. The sun was behind Anna, it backlit her reddish-brown hair to a soft glow and shadowed her face, obscuring her features. He smiled and waved back, but the bubbly makeup artist was not the woman he pictured in his mind when Jefferson yelled "Action!" and the music began to play.

 _Never thought I'd feel it again_  
 _My heart was oh so silent in my chest_  
 _Never thought I'd let go of my past and then_

 _I'll tell the secret I must confess_  
 _Everything changed when I met you_  
 _And my darling, I still believe in love,_  
 _I'll swear it again, I still do_

He didn't just lip sync along to the lyrics, he sang them out loud as the rowboat was towed out with an underwater line and brought back again for each take. It would look more natural on film than just mouthing the words. When he sang everything else faded away, the rocking of the boat on the waves, Jefferson and Leroy yelling back and forth about the shot, Will's continued bitching about the parrot all became white noise as he lost himself in the song. It was never about the fame or the money, even if they were still playing in the back of pubs for fifty quid to ten people instead of selling out stadiums he'd still love the feeling he got when he picked up his guitar and nothing else existed except the music.

They filmed until the light started to wane and Jefferson called it a wrap for the day. The crew started packing the equipment up while the band made their way back to the wardrobe trailer and changed into their regular clothes. Killian breathed a sigh of relief when the costume came off and he donned his plain black T-shirt and khaki trousers again. The pirate gear certainly looked cool but it was bloody _hot_.

A few fans were waiting for them when they exited the fort, held back behind some barricades set up for the filming and calling out excitedly as soon as they stepped into view. Their bodyguard Little John kept a watchful eye on the small crowd while the three of them walked over and started signing autographs and posing for pictures. Killian thought one teenage girl was actually going to faint after he gave her a hug.

"My friends back home are going to die!" she squealed, turning to the bemused looking woman standing behind her, "Mom, did you get all of it on your camera? Killian Jones hugged me!"

He smiled and moved on to the next fan in line, scrawling his name on the piece of paper that was thrust under his nose. A woman who looked to be about his age pushed her way to the front and invited him and the band to join her and her friends at a nearby bar. She was very pretty and was exactly his type, with dark curly hair and long tanned legs on display in tiny shorts. Six months ago he would have accepted the invitation and easily fallen into bed with her at the end of the night, another meaningless one night stand with a Milah clone to add to the list. Will gave him an expectant look, but he merely shook his head and wished her and her friends a good holiday as she pouted in disappointment.

"What happened to the old Killian?" Will asked as they left the fans with a final wave goodbye and moved across the sunbaked pavement, towards the van that was waiting to ferry them back to the hotel.

He was saved from having to answer by his phone buzzing in his pocket. The call display showed a picture of Tink and he swiped across the screen to answer.

"Lady Bell."

Lady Christina Jane Lavinia FitzWilliam Calvert-Bell gave an exasperated sigh, "Stop calling me that."

"It's your name, isn't it?" he teased.

"Killian Jones, I swear I'm going to quit if keep that up."

She was the band's PA, keeping track of their schedules and running errands for them while trying her best to keep him and Will both alive and out of trouble (a rather Herculean task at times). The daughter of a grand old family that rubbed elbows with royalty, owned listed estates and had a pocketful of posh designations and titles that stretched back centuries. But she eschewed her birthright and wanted to work for a living instead of relying on her noble connections and trust fund. Lady Christina had applied for the job under her childhood nickname, Tink, and it had been six months before they learned the truth about her background.

"You'll miss us too much if you quit and went back to your castle, Tink. What's up?"

"Are you done filming yet?" she asked.

"Aye, we just wrapped and we're about to head back to the hotel now. Why?

"Emma Swan is here."

Killian stopped dead, phone pressed to his ear, "What do you mean, Emma Swan is here?"

Will and Rob both looked over at his loud exclamation and he quickly lowered his voice and turned, hunching over the phone, "She's not supposed to arrive for another two days."

Tink sounded rather flustered, "Apparently her schedule changed, I'm not really sure what happened because nobody told me a damn thing! She just showed up! I take it you didn't know about this?"

He hadn't known. Emma didn't say anything about flying in early when they'd spoken the night before and he wondered why. They'd become friends of a sort during all those texts and phone calls over the last month - or at least he thought they were friends. Tink continued to ramble in his ear but he stopped listening. Maybe he had misjudged the whole situation with Emma and he felt all his old self doubts creep up over him again.

The ride back to the hotel seemed to take twice as long. It was fully dark by the time the van pulled into the circular drive in front of the whitewashed building and they all piled out and drifted into the open-air lobby.

"Shall we go say hello then?" Rob asked, "To Emma?"

"I'm sure Killian's just dying to say hello to his princess," Will said as he elbowed him in the ribs and gave a knowing grin, "Why hello Miss Swan, fancy a snog?"

He took off suddenly down the path that led to the private villas and Killian had to jog to keep up. Will looked over his shoulder and kept at it, doing a piss-poor imitation of Killian's voice, "Oh, Emma, I just love The Globe, I watch it every week and then I sleep with a picture of you under me pillow."

"Scarlet, don't you dare!" Killian warned, trying to grab him by the back of his shirt. But Will ducked and sped up, rounding the pool and passing by the empty tennis court. He said a silent prayer of thanks that no one else was around to hear his bandmate as he continued to chase Will down the trail, the crew hadn't returned yet from the fort and the hotel grounds were virtually deserted.

The lights were on in Emma's villa and Will slowed down and stopped as he reached where the path forked and a line of patio stones led to the villa's entrance.

"After you, Captain," he said, bowing and sweeping his arm out towards the door.

This close to meeting her in person at last and Killian suddenly felt like a bashful schoolboy. He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled while he gathered his nerve to go up and knock.

Rob caught up with them, huffing and puffing a bit. He braced his hands on his thighs and frowned, "Well, what are you waiting for?"

He was Killian Jones, the lead singer of Crimson Flag and a world famous rock star. He'd sold millions of albums, had millions of fans, and there was no reason why he should be shuffling his feet on Emma Swan's doorstep. He lifted his hand and rapped his knuckles on the wood before he could back out.

"Oh, hey guys."

August Booth opened the door, smiling and holding a bottle of beer in his hand.

"Hey," Killian replied, blinking at the man in front of him. For a split second he thought they were at the wrong villa, but then August turned and yelled, "Emma! The band's all here."

He waved them in and shut the door behind them. The villa was basically the same as the others, or at least Killian assumed it was. He caught only the briefest glimpse of the furniture because Emma Swan was crossing the living room towards them, one hand extended. She was dressed in a long flowy skirt that sat low on her hips and a white vest top that clung to her rather fetchingly, with her blonde hair pulled back in a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck. She was somewhat smaller in person than she looked on TV, and even more beautiful.

"Robin Hood," Rob said, shaking the proffered hand, "Nice to meet you, Emma."

Will was next, "Will Scarlet. Welcome to Aruba."

She smiled and greeted both men, and then she turned to him.

"We meet at last."

It came out a bit of a breathy laugh as she pushed a loose strand of hair away from her face with the back of one hand while he shook the other. Soon, too soon, the small hand was withdrawn and he dropped his back down to his side.

"Aye, we do. Killian Jones."

"Emma Swan."

"You guys want a drink?" August asked, bending down and opening up the mini-fridge behind the bar. He looked at home in Emma's villa, and Killian felt a little flush of jealousy that he tried to tamp down.

Will accepted at once while Rob shook his head, "I can't stay, I just wanted to come say a quick hello. Looking forward to working with you this week though, Emma."

Roland would probably be in bed asleep by now but Rob would want to check in on his son anyway. Emma saw him to the door while Will took the beer August pulled from the fridge.

"Emma, do you need another?" August asked.

"No, I'm good," she answered, padding back into the living room on bare feet.

"Killian?"

August held out another bottle and he accepted it while he glanced back and forth between the two actors. They didn't speak to each other like strangers, there was an easy camaraderie between the two of them and he had a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach and the question slipped out, "Do you two know each other?"

They looked at each other and laughed, "Yeah," August answered, "We made this horrible movie together, oh, about four years ago, wasn't it?"

"Ugh," Emma rolled her eyes, "Horrible's not the word. Went straight to DVD and maybe twenty people in total saw it."

"And fifteen of those were our friends and family," August added, "I'm still apologizing to my dad for having to sit through it."

Emma voiced her agreement, but Killian noticed how her mouth thinned and her gaze dropped to the floor when August made the joke. She recovered quickly though, picking up her drink from the coffee table and inviting everyone to sit.

"So you're old friends?" Will was grinning from ear to ear as he flopped down on the sofa, "That's bloody fantastic. Isn't it great, Killian?"

He took a deep swig of his drink, watching August settle in next to Emma.

Great.

Perfect.

Fucking wonderful.


End file.
